To Wherever it May Lead
by frigginapplepie
Summary: Aragorn reflects upon his leadership of the Fellowship before he decides on which path he will take. Written around the time that Boromir is going down the Falls.


A/N: I do not own any of this, except for the thoughts. The dialogue is taken straight out of the Fellowship of the Ring, bits from the extended edition. The emotion that Aragorn displays throughout the fic is what I think that I would have felt, had my role been his.

I humbly dedicate this fic to my Marauder friends, Moony and Evans, in hopes that no matter how stupid I can be, that we'll follow each other down the path of life, to wherever it may lead.

I cannot help but think that I have made the wrong decision. The Bearer of the Ring of Power is now out of our reach; our guide and companion was taken by the Flame of Moria; a brother of Gondor has be slain under my reckless leading. Have I done ill to our company?

I lift my hand, giving the vambraces of Boromir a squeeze, remembering him. Remembering beyond just his person, but recalling fondly what he did for us, as a companion, as a human, as a member of our Fellowship. The waters of Rauros Falls roared before me, and I thought of sending my brother in arms down its arm. A pang of guilt stabbed repetitively at my heart, knowing that I could not give him a proper burial.

I took a deep breath, saying quietly, "They will look for his coming from the White Tower. But he will not return." I bowed my head, hearing the faint shuffling of feet, recognizing it as Gimli, occasionally glimpsing the boat bearing Boromir's body as he moved around the small clearing we had occupied earlier.

When we were still the Fellowship.

The leaves crunched as Legolas darted nearer, going towards the boats. He must have seen something that I had missed in my moment of grief. I lifted my eyes to see what he was doing, still unwilling to admit that another of our Company had departed.

"Hurry," the distraught Elf called over his shoulder, "Frodo and Sam have reached the Eastern shore."

I stand, dropping my arms to my sides as I squint to see that indeed the young Hobbits have taken off on their own. What is it that I should do? I have unwittingly and reluctantly become the leader in leave of Gandalf, and, as Legolas turned to look at me, I felt the need to decide correctly more then ever.

I sighed. It seemed that it was statement enough for my remaining traveling companions. "You mean not to follow them?" Legolas asked, despair in his voice. Had I made the wrong decision again?

I could not help but believe that I was doing harm by deciding. In the corners of my mind, I had begun to wonder if I should even be choosing any longer. Why not allow the others to decide for once, let them do the leading? Their destiny was not mine to control, and for that reason, I decided that for myself, I could not follow the Ring Bearer any longer.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," I said, admitting to more then just myself that I could no longer be a guide. I could not save Boromir, so how could it be expected that I would save Frodo from his path?

"Then it has all been in vain," Gimli said, wandering over to where I stood. Legolas joined him shortly after. "The Fellowship has failed."

Had it? Is that the right word for it, failed? I did not think so, nor do I now. We has served our purpose: to keep the one who bore the Ring of Power as far as we were willing to go, for no oath held us longer then that. No, I realized, failed was not what it was. We had triumphed in the fact that Frodo remained safe under our keeping, and hopefully, the Ring remained hidden.

Now it would not.

But what was I to do? I could not go after the Hobbits on their quest to Mordor, too much was at stake to have five outsiders traveling in the Dark Lord's lands. That left two options: go to Minas Tirith, where war was going to be delivered, or I could go after Merry and Pippin, where battle with troops of Uruk-hai would be inevitable. If we followed the Hobbits and their captors, would that be failing the Fellowship? Or would it be right to hold to a dead man's last request?

I knew what we had to do.

I took a heavy breath, placing a hand on each of my companions' shoulders. "Not if we hold true to each other," I said. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left."

I turned, bending to pick up a small dagger off the ground that had been discarded earlier. "Leave all that can be spared behind," I declared. "We travel light." I looked at the dwarf, then at the Elf, sheathing the blade. _Am I leading them to their deaths?_ I wondered. They would not follow if they knew that I was. Or is that the exact reason that they remained with me?

A grin spread across my face, desolate, yet encouraging. "Let's hunt some Orc."

Legolas and Gimli looked at each other, perhaps pondering my decision. Whatever it was that went on during their brief exchange, however, did not matter to me, for I turned, and dashed into the forest. Gimli's cry of, "Yes! Haha!" was all that I heard before the thudding of dwarven footsteps and patter of Elven bounding joined my human pounding.

Perhaps, I told myself, there was a hope. Maybe I am a leader. It was possible that Boromir's last request would be met upon our journey.

But what was sure, I told myself as the trees whizzed by, was that I had two friends that were willing to follow my to certain death, to despair and destruction, on a bleak road.

To wherever it may lead.


End file.
